Calling the Shots

by Christine d'Abo

  “You were both tired.” He didn’t bother to say what from. But even those fond memories couldn’t chase away the darkness. “I’ve been running this club long before the two of you came along.”

  “Exactly,” Beth said with a sniff, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze. “We are here for you now. God, didn’t last night prove that?”

  Josh could feel the graffiti on the wall as if it were a brand on his skin. Whores. Yes, they were here for him. They would follow wherever he led them, even if it was down the road to hell. They’d be branded with the same brush.

  He had to get them out of here.

  “The police were going to kick me out once you two came. They said they’ll let us back in to clean up once they’ve gotten all the evidence they can find.”

  Oliver kicked at some of the glass shards at his feet. “Did they give you any indication of when?”

  “Not yet.” He’d never felt so useless in his life.

  Beth wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I saw Jeff outside.”

  “He’s going to see what we need to do in order to install some security cameras outside the club. I’ll need to check with the alarm company about upping the monitoring for a while.” There was such determination and strength from them that he almost believed everything would work out. “It’s just a little bit of paint and broken glass.”

  Oliver nodded, holding Josh’s gaze. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “They don’t have a clue who they’re messing with.” Beth ran a hand down the front of his shirt.

  Chuckling, Josh leaned in and kissed Beth gently on the lips. “You’re cute.”

  “Hey.” Oliver pouted.

  Josh knew he was teasing, but couldn’t resist him for long. The kiss was no less quick than Beth’s. “I’ll let the police know we’re heading out. They can give us a call when they’re done.”

  “Josh.” Beth slipped her hand into Oliver’s. “We’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

  “I do.”

  He just hoped that wasn’t going to get them hurt.

  * * *

  The coffee was heavily laced with rum, giving it a little extra not-on-the-menu kick as it burned its way down Josh’s throat. They’d retreated back to Pulled Long, none of them willing to be too far away from the club. The second the police gave them the all clear, Josh had every intention of cleaning up that mess.

  Ian Long, Jeff’s lover and one of the coffee shop’s owners, had kept them well stocked with food and caffeine, and stopped curious staff members from coming up to chat. Jeff had spent most of the morning talking to his contacts in the police department, feeding Josh what little information he learned.

  Since sitting down at the table, Josh had been unable to put his BlackBerry away. It was a solid weight in his hand, reassuring and tempting at the same time.

  Whore. Josh.

  They were just words—meant to hurt, accuse. The person who sprayed it on the club couldn’t know how much seeing it tore into him. It was a random attack, one of a dozen at a number of clubs. How had it turned personal? What had he done to whoever this was?

  He squeezed the phone, thumbing over the buttons.

  “Josh?” Beth bumped her shoulder against his. “You okay?”

  Yeah, not really. “I’m fine. I need to call the insurance company again.”

  “I can do that if you want.”

  “No, it’s good. I need some fresh air too. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The air outside was heavy and smelled of approaching rain. Moving to the alley beside the store, Josh kept his phone securely in his hand. It had been a long time since he’d had the urge to call home like this. Hell, he’d rarely gone to his dad with problems when he was a teen, let alone as an adult. He stared at the screen for a moment before tapping it to his forehead and thumbing in the phone number his dad had used for over a decade.

  “’Lo?”

  And with one word, all the fear and frustration threatened to overwhelm him. His throat tightened and his hands began to shake. “Hey, Dad, it’s me.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can’t I just give you a call? Does there have to be a problem?”

  “Son, its five o’clock in the morning. You never call before noon. Now what’s wrong?”

  Shit. “Sorry, forgot about the time difference.”

  “It’s fine.”

  The line went silent as Josh tried to find the words. He could hear his dad moving around, most likely in bed, waiting for Josh to say what he needed to. Closing his eyes against the unexpected tears, Josh ignored the churning in his stomach.

  “Someone vandalized the club.”

  “Bastards. Catch them?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Cops on it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Will they actually do something?”

  Josh smiled. His dad had no love for the police after a few political rallies didn’t go his way. “They will.”

  A pause followed by a huff. “What else?”

  He relaxed his fist, running his open palm along the seam of his pants. The sweaty skin caught on the leather. “Whoever it was spray-painted the word whores and my name on the wall.”

  Another pause, this time longer. “It’s not your mom.”

  “I know that.” God, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. She might have been petty and twisted, but she was too much for following the rules. “The security cameras caught whoever it was. It’s a man, though he was wearing a mask and kept his back to the cameras. How the hell one person could do so much damage, I don’t have a clue.”

  “You’re not a whore.”

  Josh’s hand shook so badly he hooked the phone between his shoulder and ear to keep it steady. He shoved his other hand in his pocket. “Of course not—”

  “The people who come to you for help aren’t either.”

  A bang down the end of the alley had Josh turning. Oliver stood at the back door to Pulled Long, watching. He didn’t approach, but he didn’t break eye contact. The silent support helped Josh take a breath and relax a tiny bit.

  “No, they’re good people, Dad.”

  “Don’t let one asshole get to you. Make sure the cops find who did this, and press charges. Whatever you can, as hard as you can.”

  “I will.”

  “You gonna be okay?”

  Oliver crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. Josh took a deep breath and let it out in one long, slow exhale. “Yeah.”

  “I love you, son.”

  “Me too, Dad.”

  Josh hung up but made no move to come back in. Oliver nodded when he realized Josh wasn’t going anywhere. He would give Josh whatever time he needed to straighten his head. Oliver wouldn’t push. Josh wasn’t certain he’d have any answers even if he was asked. He couldn’t explain the growing pit of cold fear deep in his chest, or the reason seeing Beth and Oliver would add to that discomfort.

  His life came down to a series of choices, but his decisions had only ever affected himself, his own life. After high school he’d decided to leave home and make his way alone. He’d ignored his mom’s verbal attacks against his sexuality as long as he could. He hadn’t seen her in well over a decade and hadn’t once regretted his decision to keep her out of his life. Instead of following his father to Vancouver after the divorce, he’d decided to stay and open the club alone.

  He could handle bearing the brunt of someone’s attacks. He’d been through it before, after all. The idea of Beth and Oliver somehow getting sucked into this hate…no. Just no.

  He’d figure something out. Even if it meant leaving.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beth’s fingers were raw and itchy, soap stinging the broken skin, and she’d
only managed to scrape away the wh from the neon whore. She should have waited for the new paint to cover it, but couldn’t stare at it any longer. Knowing it was there was enough to make her skin crawl. She didn’t want it covered up, she wanted it gone. The lurid paint came off the surface, but the wall beneath still bore a faint pink stain that her scrubbing couldn’t touch, as though the words had become a part of the plaster itself. She could still make out the letters, paler but unmistakable.

  Twice now someone had written the word on their club. Twice entered the sanctity of their second home and sullied it. She’d never been furious before. Not like this. She wanted to hit something, take her rage out on someone until it was spent.

  The police had released the club back to them earlier that morning, and she’d started cleaning the second they left. Oliver and Josh had gone to the hardware store for the rest of the supplies they’d need to get the club back up and running. They were going to take the opportunity to make a few additional cosmetic improvements, refreshing the main area as well as making sure every bit of the hate was gone.

  While the members had been informed of the break-in and temporary closure, few knew the specific nature of the damage that had occurred. Josh had been adamant about not wanting to taint people’s perceptions with the details. They couldn’t afford to shatter the safe harbor he’d created for everyone over the years by telling them their refuge had been vandalized with hateful slurs.

  Beth dipped the metal-bristle scrub brush back into the cleaning solution, swishing it around to clean off the accumulated paint. She didn’t like how withdrawn Josh had gotten since this last attack. It also hadn’t helped to learn that the other clubs seemed to be experiencing few incidents, while the attacks at Mavericks had risen in intensity. Whoever was doing this seemed to have chosen Mavericks, and by extension Josh, as their main target.

  Wonderful.

  The muscles in Beth’s arms throbbed as she resumed her scrubbing. It was odd being in the club and not experiencing the spark of excitement that usually seemed to linger in the air. It was one of the things she’d always loved, how the walls vibrated with life, energy, a force that permeated everything associated with the building. In many ways, Josh was the same.

  Beth closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the wall. Josh wouldn’t say, but she knew he’d been devastated by this latest attack. And while the damage had been horrible, there was something more going on for him to be bothered this much. Normally, Josh would get angry, bluster and fight his way out of the problem. He’d led the attack when the other clubs had come under fire, doing what he could to help others. But with him being the one under the gun, he refused to let anyone come close enough to help.

  To make matters worse, he’d barely touched her or Oliver in the past week. Nothing sexual or even affectionate. Gone were the gentle caresses, casual brushing and accidental contact of any kind. He probably thought he was protecting them somehow. Stupid man.

  One week. Things should have moved faster, but they’d been forced to wait for the insurance company to finish up their investigation, even though the police were done in a few hours. Their representative grilled Josh on everything from their member background screening process to the security system. Reassuring and totally frustrating all at once.

  Her mind must have wandered because before Beth realized it, she’d removed most of the or from the wall, and noises were coming from the bar below. Pain lanced up her back as she straightened up and tossed the brush into the bucket.

  “Beth?”

  She smiled as Josh and Oliver came into sight, arms full of supplies. “I hope you remembered to get some primer. I have a feeling it’s going to take a few coats to get rid of this shit.”

  “Two cans.” Oliver grinned at her as he stomped up the stairs. “I figured it was better to have it and not need it. We can tuck it away in the storeroom.”

  “Anyone stop by?” Josh hadn’t joined them, instead was hovering around the bar.

  She shot Oliver a look, but he only shrugged. “No one since you left. No calls either. Expecting someone?”

  Josh glanced down at his watch. “Yes. They should be here anytime.”

  “Who?” She got halfway down the stairs before there was a knock on the club door.

  Without answering her, Josh strode across the club and pulled the door open. “Come on in, Greg.”

  Beth didn’t recognize Greg as someone from the club, or even one of the other bars. He might have something to do with upgrading the club security. And while Josh was the owner and under no obligation to tell her everything he was planning to do, it still irked her not to be informed.

  “Wow, they really did do a number on you.” Greg moved fully into the club. Only then did Beth notice his large camera.

  “Josh, who’s this?” She stopped beside Josh but didn’t take her eyes off Greg. “What’s going on?”

  “Greg’s a friend of mine. He’s a journalist and has agreed to do a story on the vandalism here in the area. I invited him over to see the damage for himself.”

  Shock hit her like a blow to the chest. “I thought you didn’t want the members to know what was going on? That you wanted to keep this shit away from them as long as possible?”

  “They’re going to find out sooner or later. Better they know I’m dealing with things, meeting the attacks head-on and ensuring their safety rather than hiding in shame. The people who did this need to know that they can’t get away with this shit. This isn’t just vandalism, it’s bullying. I won’t let anyone push me around.”

  Josh didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead he ushered Greg around to the worst of the damage, letting him take as many pictures as he wanted. She stood watching him, unable to wrap her head around the complete change in his attitude. Not that she disagreed, but it didn’t jibe with everything he’d been telling them.

  Oliver beckoned her up the stairs. He was red-faced and frowning. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like he’s going to call this bastard out.” God, she hoped this didn’t make things worse for them. She’d lived through the typical high school bullying herself, and knew sometimes the actions you took to protect yourself could explode in your face. “I think I’m going to talk to Jeff and see if he can recommend some good security guards. I’d rather have people here onsite to dissuade another attack.”

  She tried to move to the office but was stopped short as Oliver wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight. “Hey, you okay?”

  The tears started silently, soaking into the cotton of his shirt. “I don’t know anymore.”

  She was in love—hopelessly and madly in love with two men. For one, she didn’t know how to be the woman he needed on her own. With the other, she didn’t know how to dig beneath his surface and give him the support he needed. She had to be strong, smart, give Josh the help he needed whether he asked for it or not. Without him, there was something missing, something both she and Oliver seemed to need.

  Beth pressed her nose to Oliver’s chest and inhaled deeply. The scent of his soap and skin soothed her, calming the irrational panic. Things would be fine. Josh would never do anything to put the club at risk. They could make sure everything was protected and the staff and members were safe. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than Josh was letting on.

  Oliver kissed her temple and hooked her hair behind her ear. “Want to go somewhere and take a break?”

  “No. There’s something else going on with Josh and I want to find out what. Have you noticed that he seems more…?”

  “Withdrawn?”

  “Yeah. Ever since the break-in he’s been spending more time on his own.”

  “He seemed fine in the car.” Oliver gave his head a small shake. “But then he didn’t really say much of anything either.”
<
br />   “Like he was when you first started, right? Friendly but not treating you special.”

  “Yeah, like that. It’s weird.”

  Beth wanted nothing more than to lean up and press a kiss to Oliver’s lips. He’d changed too in the past week. Where before Oliver had been tentative, since their night at her apartment he was more in tune with her. Without her asking, he knew when to touch her, how to hold her and when to step away. Each time Oliver came close, warmth spread through her body. The only thing that dampened the sensation was knowing Josh was distancing himself.

  Beth turned to face Josh and Greg as they came up to where the whore was still legible on the wall despite Beth’s best efforts.

  “Wow.” Greg lifted his camera and snapped a shot. “This bastard is nasty. I’ll be able to pull together something for tomorrow. I think I have everything in the email you sent.”

  “Good. I appreciate this, Greg.”

  “Let me get a picture of the three of you cleaning up.” He motioned for them to stand around the bucket. “Just grab a brush and don’t look at the camera. It will add a human angle to the images.”

  Oliver bent down and grabbed a brush. “I’ll take the top part. I want everyone to think I’ve been working my ass off.”

  Beth snorted. “That would be a change.” She found a second brush from the bag of supplies and got to work. “You coming?”

  She did her best to ignore Josh’s hesitation. Oliver was also laser-focused on scrubbing the wall. Once they got rid of Greg, she had a feeling the three of them were going to have a talk about what was going on. She couldn’t keep going like this, caught between warring emotions, never knowing where she stood. It was bad enough when she was trying to figure only Oliver out; with Josh’s unexpected withdrawal, she was losing her grip on her sanity.

  It was only a matter of minutes with Greg fumbling with the lighting and angle before he got the shot. After a quick round of goodbyes, Josh walked Greg to the front, giving Beth a chance to finally say something to Oliver.

  “We need to do something. Pin him down and make him tell us what he needs.”